


Stupid is as Stupid Does

by redwinehouse (orphan_account)



Series: Cranial Capacity INDEFINITE HIATUS, BUT A FULL STORY LINE WAS COMPLETED [35]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crime, F/M, Humor, Murder Mystery, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2019-01-04 22:42:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12177927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/redwinehouse
Summary: Sherlock interrogates the first subject in the case of the murdered geologist and it proves to be much more challenging then he expected. It is hard to read the mind of someone who doesn't have one.





	Stupid is as Stupid Does

  


[ ](http://www.dazzlejunction.com/generators/image-generator.php)

  


The room was so hot that Sherlock had to take his coat off, but he didn’t mind. 

He could sweat Larry out. 

Sherlock donned his cheeky smirk and interlaced his fingers on the metal table. “So, Larry,” he began, “bit of an interesting morning, wouldn’t you say?” 

Larry was wearing a white t-shirt and a green baseball cap turned backwards. He was leaning back in his chair, slouching halfway down. His legs were splayed obscenely wide. “I guess so,” he answered, sounding just as stupid as he looked. 

Sherlock leaned forward. “’You guess so’? You just stumbled upon a murder victim. That sounds a little interesting to me. It certainly made my day.” 

”Okay, yeah. I was freaked. Alright?” 

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “What time did you see David Johnson?” 

”Like…six?” 

”And like…why did it take you ten minutes to call the police?” Sherlock mocked. 

Behind the one way mirror Greg Lestrade ran a hand down his face and sighed. “I don’t know why I let him go in there. 

”Because he _bullied_ you!” Sargent Donovan snapped. “Take the freak out.” 

John stepped up. “You’re talking an awful much, yeah?” he chuckled. 

Donovan immediately shut up, quite aware that John’s chuckle was not in good humor. She had been incredibly wary around the dynamic duo for the last several years. It could probably be traced back to when she first met you. She had spewed her usual hate speech towards Sherlock and you slapped her so hard that you left a handprint. Since then not a single insult dripped from her vile mouth when Sherlock was in the room. 

”He’s the best one for the job, as much as we hate his methods,” Lestrade said, his voice thick with exhaustion. 

”What did you do in those twenty minutes you were alone after you called us?” Sherlock probed. 

”I just…stared at the body, I guess.” 

”Oh, sweet Jesus.” John put a hand to his forehead. 

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. “You ‘guess’? You seem rather unsure about a lot of things today.” 

”S’like you said. I saw a dead guy. Kind of scrambled my brain, you know?” 

Sherlock snorted. “I don’t think there’s much there to scramble, Larry. Now, why were you there so dreadfully early?” 

Larry scratched the back of his neck. “I work in the afternoon, so I take early morning classes.” 

”What time do you go to work?” 

”Twelve on the dot.” 

”Well, thank god. Even _you_ can remember that time.” 

Lestrade leaned forward into the microphone and pressed the speaker. “That’s _enough_ , Sherlock!” 

Sherlock smiled. “I’m already through here.” He stood up. 

Larry sat up, a look of hope on his face. “Does this mean I can leave?” 

”For now,” Sherlock said before walking out the door. 

Lestrade put a hand on his hip. “So what do you think?” he asked as Sherlock made his way over to the group. 

”I think he is immensely stupid, too stupid for me to simply deduce whether he is guilty or innocent just through an interview.” They all looked to the mirror and watched Larry spit into the air and catch it in his mouth. “A theory in which I think we can all agree upon.” 

With a sigh and a shake of the head, Lestrade said, “Cut him loose.” He turned to Sherlock. “You have a forensics guy coming in from Germany, correct?” 

”He should be here any moment.” He pointed at Lestrade. “I want everyone out of the forensics lab, do you understand?” 

”Sherlock, I can’t-“ 

” _Do you understand?_

Lestrade pressed the heel of his hands against his eyes. “Fine, Sherlock. I will kick out an entire department for you. Are you happy?” 

Sherlock smirked. “Immensely.” 

~*~ 

”God damn it, will you get the fuck _off?_ ” you swore, trying to help a student scrape brain matter residue out of the base of a skull. 

”Can I just fill it up with water through the foramen magnum and dump it out?” 

You leaned forward and examined the skull. “Yeah, I think that would be best.” You were about to hand it back to the student went a massive centipede crawled out. With a scream, you dropped it into the basin, splashing brain water into your mouth. “Oh, _shit!_ ” 

”I got it!” Brian said, smashing the centipede with a gloved fist. “Do I get an A?” he asked with a cheeky grin. 

You had already ran into the bathroom and were furiously brushing your teeth. After five minutes, you spit out the toothpaste and rinsed your mouth out for days. When you were finally satisfied with your mouth’s hygiene, you returned to the lab floor. 

”You get a pat on the back,” you finally answered. You pull opened your laptop and began to look over the footage of the body field for the last week. 

”What are you doing?” Brian asked. 

You spun the laptop over. “I am seeing if any animal disturbed any of the bodies, whether they’ve been eating them, moving them, or even laying eggs in them if they’re bugs.” 

”You actually let that happen?” 

You clicked your mouse so that the picture zoomed out. “Only with these three.” You pointed to three bodies that were separated from the rest by another fence. “They’re the ones we’re using to study the effects animals have on decomposition.” 

”That’s cool.” 

” _Yeah,_ it’s cool,” you smiled. 

”There!” Brian tapped his finger on the screen. Sure enough, a raccoon had begun to investigate the body. You both watched as it climbed over the flesh, examining the skin with its curious hands. 

”So we’re going to log the date and time on this spreadsheet and go from there,” you explained, updating your notes. “We can go out and look at it later.” The raccoon took a final sniff and meandered off. “We’re going to keep it there a few more months and then bring it in.” Before you could continue, your phone rang. “Hold on one second.” 

Walking into your office and shutting your door, you looked down at the caller. You groaned, immediately assuming the worst. With great trepidation, you answered, “Hello?” 

The first thing you heard was shouting. You weren’t quite sure, but it sounded like the person was speaking German. There was a second voice, clearly trying to placate the first. 

”I need you to settle an argument,” Sherlock said breathlessly. 

You rolled your eyes. With a sigh you said, “What?” 

”Theoretically, if you asked someone to fly all the way from Germany to identify a soil sample that you thought would take forensic analysis, but actually just needed one glance from a professional, does the professional have the right to be so enraged that he throws chairs?” 

You ran a hand down your face. “Sherlock, that man has the right to stab you over and over again.” 

Sherlock scoffed before he pulled the phone away. “She gave him permission to be a twat!” 

”I told you!” you heard John answer. 

You sat down at your desk. “So what is it?” 

There was a sound of smashed glass before Sherlock answered. “He said that it was London clay, which is absurd because that is 150 meters under the ground at its thinnest.” 

”Well, he was a geologist,” you offered. 

Sherlock snorted. “He wouldn’t have had a class on London clay and he certainly wouldn’t have a reason to have it on his person. This case has just become very interesting.” 

”I thought you already found it interesting,” you said as you turned on your computer. 

”I can’t put the fire out! I’m busy!” Sherlock shouted. “It’s interesting because it’s where you work,” he said, his voice back at normal volume. “Otherwise it’s not that incredible.” 

You had stopped listening to Sherlock. Instead, you were staring at your computer monitor, an opened email from the school administration on the screen. “Sherlock?” you said quietly. 

”What?” 

”Dr. Reggie Dillon was murdered. He was our best engineer.” 

The line was quiet for a couple seconds. “Two murders in one day!?” Sherlock shouted, absolutely beside himself with childlike glee. “Maybe a god does exist! John, get ready. There’s been another murder!” 

”You’ve started to play with the idea of god’s existence because two people were killed in the same day, but not when you met me or when your daughter was born?” you asked flatly, but Sherlock didn’t hear you because he had already hung up. 

Typical.

**Author's Note:**

> I finally came up with the plot twist that would make this arc dramatic last night and I choked on my lasagna when it came to me. So I hope you like it when it happens. I'm sorry this one was boring. It had to be done.
> 
> Brain juice scene was based on an actual experience that has scarred me for life. Gagged for probably 60 years


End file.
